It took everything in Nessa to step over that invisible line to enter into the school. That was supposed be the end of his safe zone, but in reality, he was safe nowhere. Not even within his home. He knew that, but it was still hard to not hold onto false hope. After everything that happened, Nessa knew that he would never be alone again. And not because of his friends, but because of something sinister.
Everything he did felt futile. After all, his whole life had been turned upside down because he had to get away. But right then, as he had entered the school, only vaguely registering the words exchanged between his friends, Nessa felt like it was all a waste of time. Nothing would have been any different if he had just stayed. He did this to himself, now he had to pay for the consequences.
When it came time for the dreaded hour, Nessa did not look up from his desk once. He didn't dare move a muscle, he didn't dare make himself be known. But he knew damn well that Mr. Miller wouldn't stop glancing his way. He could feel those prying eyes on the top of his head, waiting expectantly for him to finally lift his gaze. Nessa didn't comply though, and to his pure delight, Mr. Miller never asked him to read an excerpt from the book.
Afterwords, Nessa wanted to feel relieved. He wanted to feel as though things may not be as bad as he first thought that they would be. But how could he feel that way after everything he went through? Because even though the class was over and he couldn't find Mr. Miller anywhere in the halls, the feeling that he was being watched never went away. He felt so foolish for ever believing that it would.
All that mattered for the time being, was the fact that Mr. Miller had yet to make the first move. This day could have gone a lot worse, and Nessa had to hope that it was a positive thing. However, it also meant that he was still anticipating the downfall.
Ian sighed down at the object in his hand, thinking over what he had stumbled upon the night before. Things would have been simpler if he had known that one of Ilya's earrings was stuck to his sweatshirt while his head was still on Ian's shoulder. He was going to have to scold Ilya for not wearing backs on his dangly earrings.
It was pretty, a short silver sword that had been thin enough for it to embed itself within Ian's sweatshirt. Last night, he had studied it as he went over the nights events. He wondered why Ilya was actually out there, or why he had thrown up. Ian wasn't exactly the most compassionate person out there, but he felt bad. Even when Ian used to date Emily, Ilya would still be getting drunk and/or screwing any person who accidentally took one look in his general direction.
The first time Ian was able to confirm his sexuality, was actually because of Ilya. It wasn't until after he and Emily had broken up, because even though Ilya was a manwhore, he was not a boyfriend or girlfriend stealer. Not unless he had permission from both sides of the relationship, anyway.
You're attractive. Ian couldn't help but roll his eyes as he remembered those words. The way Ilya's pretty blue eyes had stared into his, it was such a waste of time. Ilya was a phenomenal kisser, but he was not worth much more to Ian. Well, not in a romantic or sexual sense.
The reality was, even though Ian wasn't supposed to be their friends anymore, he couldn't help but still find himself caring about them all. He still worried about seeing Ilya in such a state, or finding Venice still awake despite it being such an odd hour. In fact, it had been past three in the morning when the whole thing occurred.
Ian had been tired, but he was too stressed out to focus on much of anything. There was an extremely important test coming up in his AP Physics class that he had spent the whole night studying for, along with three essays spread out amongst different classes that were going to be due very soon. His Mum had been working midnights again, and Jada was back at college. Meaning that Ian also had to do some cleaning around the apartment.
He was simply too distracted to think straight, and after some excruciating tossing and turning in his bed, he decided to just take a walk in an attempt to clear his head. That had been the intention anyway, but clearly things didn't go as planned. Because after dealing with the whole Ilya situation, Ian then had to spend the rest of the night fretting over an old friend, wondering what had made him look so disturbed when he first stumbled upon him.
Ian remembered when he was little, after his parents divorced and they first moved to America. His Mum was always saying how independent he was, how proud of him that made her. You're so mature for you age, Ian.
That was an easy facade to maintain when he was younger, because it really did feel like he was mature at the time. But now that he was nearly an adult, Ian knew how stupid of an observation that it was. Because he was not mature—now more than ever. Mum did not need to know that though, all she needed to see was his above average report cards, and perfect attendance. If he was leaving the house, it was most often for volunteer work. Anything that scholarships would be jumping for joy over, because lord knows that he needed them to be.
Sometimes, only sometimes, Ian missed living in London. He missed the way everyone spoke, the way his father took him on trips to the ice cream parlor down the street, even the dreary weather and spending Boxing Day inside watching Christmas movies. That was when he didn't have to stress everyday over his grades, over making something of himself, or listening to his Mum mumble to herself as she wondered how she was going to pay the upcoming bills.
It was his job to keep the house in check. You're the glue holding us all together, Mum had told him once. Even when Jada was still home, she hardly did any cooking or cleaning. That was always left for him to do. Just as his homework, his studies, his entire future was in his hands.
Thinking about all of these things, Ian looked up and glanced around the classroom. He was sitting in his Philosophy class, his teacher pacing around the room as he went over the brief history of the French Enlightenment period. Which Ian already knew everything about, so he wasn't too concerned about it at the moment.
He remembered a few years ago, when he was crying over a failed test. It felt like the universe was collapsing on top of his shoulders, especially when it wasn't too long after his Mum had gotten fired from her previous job. Ian felt as though he had failed at his position of holding the home together. In a quiet hallway, he found himself gasping for air all alone, as though he were drowning.
That was when Emily found him. They had never spoken before, but he had seen her a few times. She was so hard to miss, thick eyeliner, freshly dyed black hair, as much silver jewelry as she could possibly fit was lining her limbs. She had been alone, and she acted quickly. It was mortifying, to be found in such a distressed state by someone who seemed to rule the world with the way she held herself.
Emily guided him through the panic attack, explained to him what it even was. It was after school, just as Ian was making his way out from the library. Emily said that she was only there to pick something up from her locker, but she didn't mind having to stay back to help him out.
Even now, Ian never did fully understand why Emily had bothered to stick around after he was alright m. But she did, and she told him all sorts of things. About how she used to get panic attacks too, or how she taught herself to be indomitable instead. Ian felt an odd sort of power just by sitting near her, and he liked the way she smelt of roses and cigarettes.
From then onward, she introduced him to her friends. He met them all, and in months to come, he met Keely too. That was the only time in a long time, that Ian felt like he was able to act like a teenager and not an adult. He was able to be his own God, his own power. His Mum never did like Emily all that much, but he couldn't find it in him to care.
Those days were the highlight of his high school years, and he knew that he would continue to miss them for years to come. But he destroyed them all on his own. He caused for everything to fall apart. His Mum was wrong about him. He was not the glue. He was the scissors, and one day, he would destroy his home too.
When the bell finally rang, Ian gratefully stood up and gathered his things. He would have returned the earring to Ilya earlier in the day, but he did not see him this morning, and he was too busy having a political discussion with his History teacher to do it during lunch. And as he walked out into the halls, it just then occurred to him that he could have done it during Mythology class. He ran a frustrated hand over his short hair as he made his way to where he guessed Ilya's locker would be, given that his last name started with a P.
And to his relief, he did actually find Ilya in the hallway, Kiwi talking animatedly at his side as he waited for Ilya to hurry up. However, when Ian approached them, he found that Ilya was too busying applying pink lip gloss, using the small mirror he had attached to his locker door.
"Excuse me?" Ian mumbled, attempting to catch at least one of their attention. Thankfully, Kiwi was immediately attentive, grinning widely as he saw him.
"Hello, Ian!" Kiwi greeted him, and Ian couldn't stop himself from smiling softly in response. Kiwi was simply so effortlessly himself, it was nice to see in comparison to most people who couldn't be that kind even if they were to try. Most people were too scared to.
"Hey." Ian replied, then he held out his hand, allowing for the stupid earring to dangle out of his grip. Seeing it in the reflection, Ilya suddenly stopped fixing his makeup and turned to Ian curiously.
"Oh, shit." As though just now realizing that it was his, Ilya touched a finger to his ear. He had a couple piercings, some of them without any jewelry, while others had simple studs or hoops. "Wait, what the fuck?"
Ian couldn't help but snort, waiting for Ilya to take the damn thing from him so that he could move on already. "It's yours, you didn't have a back on it."
"How did it end up with you? Shouldn't it just be on the street or something?" Ilya took it from him, staring down at it thoughtfully.
"It got stuck to my shirt when you had your head on my shoulder." Ian shrugged, tucking his hands into the pockets of his brown slacks. "I didn't even notice it until I was almost home."
"Sorry about last night." He said as he put the earring back into one of his piercings. Then he was adjusting the circular barbell he had in his septum. "I was way too out of it."
"What happened last night?" Kiwi's voice was a bit smaller than normal, eyes not quite as soft as Ian was used to them being. Ian had only seen Kiwi mad once—and by that, he meant really mad. It was after what Ian had done to Emily, and though Kiwi still gave him another shot, he didn't do it without letting Ian know what was on the line.
"Oh, right..." This was for Ilya to explain, because Ian wasn't entirely sure what had even happened. Closing his locker, Ilya tried to find a proper way to elaborate. "I went to the bar and drank a lot more than I meant to. Then I..." He trialed off for a moment, as though changing the way in which he was going to say things. "I went home with this redhead, but she was kind of weird. So I left and then threw up, and Ian found me pretty much right after. He walked me home like the sweetheart that he is."
"What do you mean by her being weird?" Kiwi no longer seemed interested in the fact that Ian was involved, instead studying his friend with worry in his eyes. Ian wouldn't say it, but he was curious too.
Briefly, Ilya averted his gaze, as though something was off with whatever he was about to say. Maybe if Ian had been someone more like Venice, everything would have made sense without so much as a word being exchanged. "I don't know, just kind of off, I guess. People are like that sometimes, it could have been worse. I decided to get out of there just in case."
"I'm glad you're alright." Kiwi seemed to be imagining the absolute worst scenarios, eyebrows knit together as he adjusted the collar of his orange sweater. It had an endearing smiley face printed on it. "You should really be more careful."
"I'll be fine." Ilya waved him off. It was at this point that Ian glanced around the hallway to see that it had nearly emptied out. He needed to get back home in order to do the dishes and make dinner for his Mum before she woke up.
"I'm going to go now." Ian announced, wasting no time as he turned on his heel.
Kiwi waved at him as he walked away. "Goodbye!"
"Bye." He hardly said it loud enough to be heard, already deep within his thoughts. As he headed towards the nearest exit, he couldn't help but wonder if he had finished his AP Chemistry essay or not.
Sorry about the delay, I rewrote this chapter twice because I just didn't really like it. I don't know, I still don't really like it but whatever :)